


our hands will never be clean

by LittleDragonPrince



Category: Campaign (Podcast)
Genre: (....not really), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blue and Zero Defect From The Empire AU, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, On the Run, Pre-Relationship, Redemption, aava is important to the story but not a present tense character in it so shes untagged, also. not really tho., like i ship them but this isnt a romance story at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 13:49:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14262354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleDragonPrince/pseuds/LittleDragonPrince
Summary: “Don’t – do that,” Blue scolded, hands fluttering anxiously in the space between them, “You’re going to exacerbate your injuries, lay back down. Doctor’s orders.”Zero didn’t reply at first, opting to ignore his boss and focus on steadying his breathing. After a short moment of consideration, he sent a private message through his helmet’s HUD to Blue, afraid that, even here, there might be eyes watching, ears listening.We have to leave,it read,We’re going to die.





	our hands will never be clean

They don’t even make it a full year without Aava.

When she left, she left suddenly – there one day, gone the next. She vanished without any goodbyes, without leaving behind any clues or hints as to where she might be going – it was almost as if she had never been there to begin with. In hindsight, though, Zero can concede that there were signs – in the weeks before her departure from the Empire, Aava had been a lot more earnest with the crew of the Bluebird. She spoke more to Synox’s squadron of Stormtroopers, teased Blue in a way that was far more fond than sincere, and generally seemed more talkative than Zero was used to. The most prescient memory took place a few days before she went, however. She’d never been cold with him before – the two were friends after all – but it wasn’t common for them to spend much time one-on-one, what with Blue usually hovering at Zero’s side. One day she had asked if he wanted to spar with her, and he agreed, and afterwards the two stretched together.

“Are you happy?” she had asked, and while the question was unexpected, her tone of voice was so casual Zero barely felt caught off-guard at all.

Instead, he had laughed. “And why do you wanna know that, huh?” he asked, only half-serious. He had a feeling he could guess her answer.

“Because we’re friends,” she said matter-of-factly, and Zero smiled behind his mask. Sometimes it felt like a real honor to know someone like Aava as well as he did. “And friends care about one another’s well-beings. And babysitting Blue seems like a terrible gig, even before he started milking his near-death experience for sympathy.”

Zero took a moment to display a pixelized eyeroll. It was only after Aava hummed appreciatively that he answered, “I am actually. I mean, things were really rough for awhile there, after Blue’s – well. You know. And he’s really not been _that_ bad – a little whinier than usual, I guess, but can you blame the guy?”

“I suppose I can’t,” she said with a wry smile, rolling her shoulders back as she finished up the last of her stretches, “I probably am a little too hard on him. He’s not _quite_ as bad as I first assumed.”

And that _did_ catch Zero off-guard, so much so he didn’t reply right away, just stared at Aava and tried hopelessly to guess what she was thinking. She was unreadable, though, more so than usual, and after a beat of silence he asked in a softer voice than he’d intended, “Are… _you_ happy?”

When Aava smiled at him, he could see the sadness in it, the way it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I am,” she said, voice full of sincerity, “And I’m glad that you are, too.”

At the time, Zero had chalked up her streak of outgoingness to a passing mood; maybe she was just feeling more sentimental than usual. But looking back on it, he imagines she felt the opposite of calm as she told jokes to make the Stormtroopers laugh and smiled quietly at Blue’s preening and fussing. He imagines that those moments were her way of saying _goodbye_ and _i’m sorry_ and _we’ll never see each other again._

He can’t be certain, of course, but it helps with the sting of her absence. Just a little.

Synox’s reaction was unsurprising in that he tried to hide it as much as he possibly could. Zero asked him what he thought of Aava leaving, two days after she’d gone, and he called it “unfortunate.” When he asked if Synox misses her, he said, plain and simple, “I’m not one to feel fondly for rebel scum, Agent Zero.” But from the clench of his jaw, the way his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed slightly, Zero could tell Synox was trying to convince himself more than anything else. It was obvious to anyone who’d met the duo that Aava and Synox shared a special bond. They both laughed and smiled more with each other than with anyone else. Aava was the only person Zero knew of who could get Synox to relax even a tiny bit, and suddenly she was gone without any explanation.

Over the next few months, Synox got harsher and harsher with the Troopers under his command. If questioned, he would reply that Aava becoming a deserter was dangerous news for them – she was a powerful Force user with plenty of inside knowledge about the Empire. His intensity was born out of necessity; there was too large of a risk in going easy on his troops. Zero didn’t buy it, though – he figured this was simply the only way Synox had of venting his frustrations. The betrayal must have felt deeply personal to him, though he was unlikely to ever admit it. The only person he might have ever confided in was a criminal now.

Blue’s initial reaction was a resounding and insensitive, “I told you so.” He was angry, that was for sure, though Zero couldn’t place why at first – he and Aava had _never_ been close. He laughed bitterly whenever Aava was brought up at the many, _many_ Imperial meetings following her disappearance, and insulted her whenever he could. The names he called her weren’t unfamiliar – an evil witch, a scary sorceress, a cold-hearted Sith – but the vitriol in his voice certainly was. For a long time, Zero didn’t have any opportunities to sit with Blue and ask him what was so obviously _wrong_ – Blue was caught up in a huge tangle of politics, simultaneously trying to handle the mayhem that always followed a betrayal like Aava’s and conceal it from the public, who could absolutely, under no circumstances, know about what had happened. This meant meeting after meeting, drafting email after email, releasing propaganda footage from inside the Bluebird to prove everything was perfectly fine. While Zero was always with Blue, he often wasn’t the only one there, so he couldn’t ask what Blue thought of Aava – not without raising any suspicions, at least. He could only watch Blue spiral, acting angry and bitter and fussier than usual with no clear explanation in sight.

In the end Zero didn’t need to ask. Blue brought it up all on his own one day, out of nowhere.

“Why didn’t Aava _tell_ me she was leaving?” he blurted out, one foot tapping out a frantic rhythm where he sat composing some overly complicated piece of music.

Zero cocked his head at Blue in a silent plea for clarification – the answer to that question was _obvious,_ right? – but when he only received an expectant glare in response, he said, “You’re a Minister, buddy, remember? She couldn’t talk to you about her plans to _desert_ , that’d be – that’d be a death wish. She’s smarter than that.”

“But,” Blue huffed out, fists clenching at his side. The bouncing switched to his other leg, “But – she could’ve _wanted_ to tell me, right, I mean – we are friends, after all!”

There was a long and devastating silence. Slowly, Blue stopped bouncing his legs altogether, expression uncharacteristically sheepish. Right as Zero opened his mouth to reply, Blue spoke, voice tight and furious, “We _were_ friends. Were.”

With that he turned back to his composition, posture impossibly still, and refused to talk about Aava any further.

All of this was seven months before things went really, truly wrong.

It started with rumors. Despite the government’s best efforts, it was inevitable that citizens of the Empire would hear murmurs about the deserter who’d worked alongside the Minister of Propaganda. And even within the Empire’s ranks, questions of Blue’s loyalty cropped up. How had Aava been allowed such a clean getaway? If she was such a major threat, why hadn’t she been neutralized by now? There had been a two week period of radio silence on Blue’s end before he’d bothered to denounce Aava’s actions in a memo to other Imperial politicians, and that was enough of a pause to stir up suspicion.

Blue did his best to settle things down. He spoke to as many politicians as he could, smiling stiffly through all of their condescending words. He produced more propaganda in a short window of time than he had over the last nine months combined. He was feverish, and desperate, and indignant more than anything, but his hard work was too little too late by the time the first assassination attempt occurred.

Zero prevented it, obviously, but it was a near thing. Closer than any other attempt had ever been. It left Blue shaken up, though he tried to hide it. He slept less and composed more, and never stopped sending Zero messages through the Holonet during the rare moments they were apart. Zero indulged him and his anxieties because he understood – he was afraid, too. Mostly because they had never dealt with an assassination attempt so… professional before. Sure, there had been some smart bounty hunters in the past, but nothing quite as skilled. And Zero’s theory as to why was a disconcerting one.

Most of the people who tried to have Blue killed, aside from the typical rebels and greedy, freelancing bounty hunters, were Imperial agents lower than him in the political hierarchy. They would try to have him taken out so his position would be open for their taking, but no killer they could hire was ever above Zero’s paygrade. Occasionally, someone a little bit higher ranking than Blue would have it out for him, afraid that _he_ would be gunning for their position soon, but again, the killers they could afford were never noticeably better than Zero. His job as Blue’s bodyguard had never been particularly harrowing.

This time it had been different. This time the assassin was brutal and relentless and cunning, and the fact that he and Blue had both escaped unscathed was nothing short of a miracle. The explanation felt clear, overwhelmingly so – whoever had hired this assassin far outranked Blue. There was potentially a coordinated effort to take Blue out, and if that was true, Zero knew they didn’t stand a chance of survival.

Blue had reached a similar conclusion, but stubbornly refused to go into hiding despite Zero’s attempts to sway him.

“I’m gonna level with you,” he said, in the privacy of the Bluebird’s cockpit, voice pitched low and gentle, “If another killer comes after us like that, I – I don’t know if I’ll be able to protect you. I’ll, I’m gonna try my best, of course I am, but. This is something else. This could be too big for us to handle.”

“Oh, please,” Blue snapped, shifting his weight from foot to foot, both hands wrapped around what was certainly his sixth cup of caf, “I have complete faith in you. I would have fired you if I thought you were too incompetent to foil a few assassination attempts.”

“That,” stammered Zero, “That cannot possibly be your takeaway from this conversation. Blue,” the minister’s eyes flickered up from where he’d been examining his cup intently; his expression was unreadable, “We are both in serious danger. We need to leave.”

“I’m not giving up,” Blue said, and Zero could already tell from the stoniness of his voice that it was a lost cause, there was no convincing him, “Not yet.”

A couple of days later, Blue began to reach out to other Imperial politicians to discuss the recent attempt on his life. While he had intended to remain neutral (perhaps veering into the passive aggressive, with saccharine warnings about potential attacks on others), the anxiety that had kept him up for almost a full week made him spiteful and stupid. In one of his addresses, he let it slip that he believed the assassin had been hired by someone else in the Empire, and that opened up a whole new floodgate of scrutiny and gossiping. Over the next three months, the damage to Blue’s reputation only worsened as people called him manipulative, dishonest, and paranoid. When attention was drawn to the correlation between other Imperials dying suddenly at the hands of rebels and Blue having had contact with them shortly beforehand, Zero knew there was no hope left for them. Because while the theory that Blue was working in tandem with rebel forces was plainly absurd, the deaths of many, many Imperial officials were undoubtedly his fault. They had always done their absolute best to erase the trails, to hide any evidence of Blue’s involvement in their murders, but with each passing day the chance they’d be found out once and for all increased.

The second assassination attempt left Zero incapacitated. The would-be killer’s vibrosword had snapped off inside of him, lodged in his hip, piercing through the cybernetics and hitting something organic. It wasn’t fatal, but he ended up in the hospital for a short stint, Blue perched nervously on the chair beside the cot. He looked terrible then – skinnier than usual, eyes darkened with sleep deprivation and hair limp from a lack of showering. He had dragged the seat around from one side of Zero’s bed to the other specifically so he could watch the door to their private room intently in case of intruders. Zero didn’t have the heart to tell him that, should an assassin choose to burst into the room, it wouldn’t matter if they saw it coming. They’d be done for.

After several hours spent trapped in that hospital bed, Zero leaned as far forward as he could manage, nodding his head empathically in Blue’s direction to get his attention – not that it was difficult, given how high-strung and hypervigilant he was in that moment.

“Don’t – do that,” he scolded, hands fluttering anxiously in the space between them, “You’re going to exacerbate your injuries, lay back down. Doctor’s orders.”

Zero didn’t reply at first, opting to ignore his boss and focus on steadying his breathing. After a short moment of consideration, he sent a private message through his helmet’s HUD to Blue, afraid that, even here, there might be eyes watching, ears listening.

 _We have to leave,_ it read, _We’re going to die._

The silence stretched for an eternity as Zero sat and watched Blue’s reaction, watched him shift in his seat and clench his hands tight in the hem of his wrinkled shirt, his breaths slow and deep and labored. For a terrifying moment, Zero thought Blue might continue to fight him, insist on remaining loyal to the Empire and trying to retake his old position of power.

Instead, Blue buried his face in his hands, shoulders slumping under the weight of his exhaustion. When the reply message popped up on Zero’s internal readout, Blue refused to look up, refused to move at all.

_I know._

It takes eight days to get their escape plan in order. The entire time they’re hastily packing bags, searching for destinations far enough away they won’t be tracked there, trying desperately to commandeer an escape pod, Zero thinks of Aava. He wonders if her last few days before leaving, ten months ago now, were as stressful as his and Blue’s. He tries to picture her fussing over maps of the Outer Rim, startling at any sudden noise outside her doors, lying awake at night and second-guessing every choice she’d ever made. Somehow, he can’t quite imagine it, but maybe that’s because he doesn’t want to think of Aava as so afraid, so helpless, so unsure. He wants to imagine her escape was as clean as it looked from the outside – meticulous and confident, like she always was.

He can only cross his fingers and pray that his and Blue’s getaway is as successful as hers (though something tells him they won’t be as lucky.)

They take an escape pod stashed away in one of the storage spaces of the Bluebird while traveling through the Mid Rim. Blue had whined for a long time, arguing that he should be allowed to take the Bluebird, he _paid_ for it with his own credits, after all, but Zero was insistent that taking such an easily recognizable ship was a terrible idea. They pack themselves into the pod with no small amount of griping from Blue; it’s a higher end escape pod, larger than most, with a more comprehensive set of controls. Zero has no problem getting the pod out of the Bluebird without detection – Blue had sliced the ship beforehand, manually shutting down any alerts or alarms that may go off and announce their departure.

Only once the Bluebird is behind them, disappeared in the vastness of outer space, does Zero feel his heart unclench. They’re nowhere near safe, not yet, they probably never will be again, but he honestly hadn’t expected to get off the Bluebird unseen. The first step of a hundred is behind them now and there’s no turning back now.

One glance at Blue and Zero knows that he’s alone in feeling relieved; the – well, now former – minister paces in a tight circle in the back of the cockpit, wringing his hands and letting out routine huffs of air and hums of frustration. He’s anxious and, perhaps more than that, bored; Zero had demanded he shut the Holonet off on all of his personal devices, including his glasses, so he became completely disconnected from everything when he usually had his hands firmly in all corners of the Holonet. Whereas Zero could distract himself from their situation by piloting the ship, Blue is left almost completely alone with his thoughts, and it _shows._ He’d cleaned himself up since the second assassination attempt, but it doesn’t do much to mask his current unease, with his greasy hair, gaunt face, and wrinkled clothing.

A long, long time passes like that, neither speaking to the other, the hum of the engine and Blue’s repetitive, unintelligible muttering serving as white noise as Zero focuses on flying them farther and farther away from their old ship. Eventually, once Blue has upgraded from merely pacing to alternating between sitting on the floor, sitting in the empty passenger seat, and moving back to stand behind Zero, he decides to check in with him. It’s the least Zero could do (he chooses to ignore the fact that he’s already doing far more than that. He desperately wants a reason to break the silence.)

“Hey,” he says; Blue’s legs ceases its bouncing at once from where he currently rests, arms folded on top of the passenger seat’s headrest, leaning forward and staring out the windshield intently. “Uh… how are you holding up, buddy?”

It’s a stupid thing to say, Zero knows it as soon as it leaves his mouth, but in his exhausted, adrenaline-addled state, he can’t think of anything better. Blue clearly thinks it’s pathetic, too; his lips curl back in a sharp frown, and his posture straightens as he turns to face Zero completely.

“How am I holding up?” he snarks, voice absolutely venomous, “Well, let’s see – my entire life’s work was destroyed in a matter of months, on two separate occasions I was almost brutally murdered, everyone I’ve ever met or formed a relationship with now thinks I’m a traitor – and they’re _right_ , y’know, now they are, at least – and, _worst_ of all, I’m stuck on this puny, pathetic little escape pod, leaving my _beautiful_ ship in the hands of – of – who kriffing knows!” By the time he’s finished, hands spread out in a desperate gesture, his shoulders are heaving and his cheeks are flushed. A stunned beat passes, and a grin – sardonic and bitter – spreads across Blue’s face, “So, y’know, I’m _great._ Never been better!”

“Okay,” Zero says quickly, one hand leaving the control panel to gesture placatingly towards Blue. “That was a dumb question, and I’m sorry, okay, I – I take it back.” When Blue opens his mouth, obviously planning on interrupting Zero with another angry outburst, he rushes to continue, “But – I mean, sure, this all sucks phenomenally, but think of it this way. This,” with that one free hand, he makes a circular gesture to indicate the entirety of the escape pod’s cockpit, “is all for the best.”

His words have the opposite affect than intended. Blue looks even more affronted, if that were somehow possible. “Excuse me if that doesn’t make me feel better,” he says with an over-the-top eyeroll, “But the Empire, literally the most powerful force in the galaxy, is out to kill me! There isn’t exactly a _best_ in this scenario, Zero, there – there is no silver lining!”

“ _Fine_.” It comes out angrier than he means it to, but he’s tired, and on edge, and Blue’s been fighting Zero the whole time that he’s been trying to save his life, “ _Don’t_ think of it like that, I’m just hoping we don’t die, at this point. I’m just trying to avoid the _worst_.” Blue doesn’t respond to him, just pouts and starts to pace again, walking directly away from Zero without another word. It makes his blood boil, so he snaps, “What do you suggest, huh? If you hate this plan so much, what do you want us to be doing?”

“ _Anything_ else!” is Blue’s immediate response as he spins around to glare at Zero again, “Literally anything else. If we could have just – clarified that I was loyal, that Aava leaving had nothing to do with me, I could just suck up to a few Imperial dirtbags and, eventually, things would be back to normal. I’d be in the Bluebird right now, working on the next _Synox and Friends,_ and we––”

“Blue, we tried that,” Zero cuts through his rambling, more exasperated than truly mad anymore, “We tried all of that, you know it didn’t work.”

When Blue responds, “I know!” it’s a shrill and trembling shout. It’s the most he’s raised his voice in over a week, Zero realizes, having spent the past several days hushed and afraid, speaking through their private messenger more than anything else. This thought stuns Zero into silence for long enough that Blue has time to take a deep, steadying breath, and say, “I _know._ Of course I know that. But it would have worked if… if Aava just hadn’t left like she did.”

There’s a pause. Zero gets the feeling that he’s about to find out the root of Blue’s frustration, or at least a large portion of it, so he keeps quiet even though he wants to speak.

“This is all her fault.” Blue’s voice is barely above a whisper, but the words are impossible to miss in the stiflingly small space of their pod.

“Why do you think that,” Zero says – it’s not a question. He’s pretty sure he could guess Blue’s answer, he’s just not so sure that he agrees.

“If she had just,” he stops to swallow audibly, “ _Told_ me her plans, I could have. Helped. Somehow. Maybe I could have helped her fake her own death. Or something – anything so that they didn’t suspect her of deserting, or _me_ of letting her.” His left leg began to bounce again, nervous and involuntary, “If it was really so important to her, we… could have worked something out. She could be gone. I could be working. And everyone could be. Happy. Instead of now,” Blue has to stop again, and Zero notices the hand not clenched, white-knuckled, around his cane is shaking, “Where absolutely _no one_ is.”

His words make Zero think of his last one-on-one conversation with Aava before she vanished from their lives. From Zero’s life. Whenever he pictured that day previously, he figured Aava had been lying when she said that she was happy, but maybe that wasn’t the case – maybe she was happier then than ever before, knowing that in just a few days she’d be free from the Empire forever. He knows Blue wants him to be angry – knows, on some level, that he should be – but in reality he just feels… sad. As well as a little bit hopeful. Wherever Aava is, he knows she’s happier there, and as much as he misses his friend he knows that that, too, is for the best.

There’s a part of Zero that wants to tell Blue all of this, and another part that wants to tell him that Aava never meant either of them any harm, that her leaving really did have nothing to do with them.

Instead, he says, “If she’d done that, all the rumors would be true. You’d be more of a traitor than you are right now.”

“Sure, maybe,” Blue says, leaning back against the cockpit’s wall; there’s a cold, sharp smirk on his face as he speaks, and it doesn’t reach his eyes. “But you should already know, Zero, that it doesn’t matter what you do. It only matters what people think about it.”

The rest of their trip through the Mid Rim passes without much conversation. At some point, Blue falls asleep, curled up in the passenger seat beside Zero. Zero envies him – they’re both totally exhausted – but he can’t rest until they stop moving, and while normally he’d turn on autopilot and leave it at that, a pervasive sense of dread stands in his way. He could always sleep once they’ve landed, safe and sound, on the planet he’d picked out days in advance: Crul. It’s a mostly-aquatic planet, seen ultimately as unimportant by the Empire. There were a few small, underfunded stations there, Zero knew, but it was the closest location with the smallest Imperial presence. Eventually they could run to the Outer Rim, to someplace where the Empire had no power at all, but for now they just needed somewhere to stop and recuperate.

When Zero does reach Crul, it takes less than twenty minutes to get through the security surrounding its airspace. They aren’t officially fugitives – not yet – and lying is easy enough for someone as practiced as Zero. They end up docking outside of one of the few terrestrial cities Zero can find, on an island in the center of a vast, warm lagoon. Blue looks so still, so small and peaceful, in his sleep that Zero hesitates to wake him. He paces idly around the pod for a full minute and a half before deciding that every second counts, any second could mean life or death, and shaking Blue awake. He tries to do it gently, since he knows Blue could _really_ use the shut-eye, but Blue still startles like Zero had slapped him across the face.

In any other situation, the bleary, bewildered expression on his face would make Zero laugh – instead he splays his hands out placidly and says, “Hey, it’s okay, it’s just me. We’re here now,” after a moment of blinking up at him, Blue huffs out a sigh of relief; Zero lowers his hands and displays a smile on the LED screen of his mask, “C’mon. Up and at ‘em, buddy.”

Zero is surprised to find that he and Blue blend fairly well with the citizens of the city – named Okrea, if the various signs are any indication. Most of Crul’s native people – the Crolutes and Gilliands, if he’s recalling correctly – prefer to live their lives under the water’s surface, so terrestrial cities appear to be inhabited by immigrants for the most part. As they walk the streets, Zero spots Humans, Sullustans, Twi’leks, Rodians – even a Wookiee or two. There aren’t any other Ganks, which isn’t shocking, but does make him nervous. He knows that he sticks out like a sore thumb, especially when paired with someone as distinct as Blue, and he knows their disappearance will be noticed eventually. Probably sooner, rather than later.

“I don’t understand why we couldn’t just leave our bags in the pod,” Blue gripes after approximately forty minutes of walking; Zero is impressed he lasted this long without any complaints, “Instead of lugging them all over this _awful_ humid nightmare city.”

“Okay, well, first – cool it with the disrespect, alright,” Zero says, though it’s not serious. In all honesty, he’s relieved they can talk like normal again, “Let’s try not to make enemies on our first day here. And – I already told you, we’re not going _back_ to that pod. We’re looking for some temporary housing, and a new ship, and then we’re out of here.”

“At least I have something to look forward to,” Blue’s says, words dripping with melodrama, and Zero smiles wide where Blue can’t see it.

The good news is that it doesn’t take much longer to find a hotel; the bad news is it’s far more expensive to stay there than either of them had anticipated. Zero had expected to stay on Crul for about a week, which would have given them enough time to find a solid mechanic from whom they could buy a brand new ship, but to have enough credits to actually _afford_ that ship, plus food and supplies, their stay has to be cut in half.

When Zero breaks this news to Blue and Blue begins to panic, he tries to mollify him by saying, “On the plus side, the receptionist gave me some tips on where we can find a mechanic, and, I mean. Worst case scenario, we spend a night or two on the streets.”

“ _What?”_ Blue shrieks. Zero glances around them, where they stand outside the hotel with their bags, but aside from a few bemused looks, nobody notices the scene Blue is causing, “That’s – that’s the worst possible thing, Zero, please tell me it won’t come to that. Promise me.”

“Just – calm down, alright? Kark’s sake,” says Zero, “The alternative is dying, in case you forgot.”

“Are you ever going to stop throwing that in my face?”

“I’m not – what? – I’m just stating the truth.”

“You – nevermind,” Blue says with an eyeroll, as if Zero’s the one being ridiculous; whatever relief he’d had felt at their familiar bickering is gone, replaced by pure exasperation, “’S not worth it… Just. I can’t wait to see how things get worse somehow.”

Two days later, Blue gets exactly what he asked for.

The search for a ship is slow-going. A city as small as Okrea only has a handful of mechanics, and so far none have had a ship to sell. It’s been a wild goose chase, where every lead they look into is just another dead end. The salespeople and citizens they spoke to seemed confused by their being there – Crul wasn’t a tourist spot, they would explain. It wasn’t common for people to be just passing through. It put Zero on edge, knowing that they were being _noticed_ already, that their anonymity was so quickly compromised. Blue, on the other hand, was in his first good mood in months; having a hotel bed to sleep in seemed to soothe his anxiety. His clothes were clean, and his complaining was limited to petty, small things. It was a welcome change from the fraught version of himself that he’d become before they’d escaped.

On their way through Okrea’s central bazaar to meet yet another ship dealer – the fourth they’d met so far, according to Zero’s math – Blue spots it. He stops short, so suddenly Zero doesn’t notice until he feels a hand wrap itself around his arm and jerk him back. When he looks back in confusion, Blue’s face is drained of color, his eyes focused on something in front of them that Zero can’t see. He doesn’t let go of Zero’s arm, and that’s Zero’s first hint that something is wrong – Blue was never fond of physical contact and used it very sparingly.

“What’s up, Blue?”

“0ni,” he says, so quiet Zero barely hears it, and that’s the second clue.

“Uh, you’re scaring me now,” Zero turns away to look the same way Blue is facing, desperately searching the bazaar for whatever has him so shaken, “What’s, I don’t know what you’re looking at––”

And that’s when Zero spots it. Displayed on the outside of a communications center – something run by the Empire, no doubt – is a red alert – an emergency transmission declaring a reward for the apprehension of two at-large deserters.

The faces underneath the bright red text are devastatingly familiar.

“Oh, no,” it feels like the breath has been knocked out of him, “No, no, no, no, no.”

Blue is looking furtively around the street they’re on, as if expecting a stranger in the bustling crowds to suddenly recognize them and attack on the spot. Zero _knows_ that’s unlikely, nearly impossible, but the paranoia sets in, and without thinking he grabs Blue’s arm and pulls.

“We need to get out of the open,” he mutters so only Blue can hear him; he receives no resistance or reply.

They duck into a bar two blocks away from the communications center where the bounty information is displayed. Zero continues to move on autopilot as he ushers Blue swiftly through the dark interior of the pub, barely bothering to appear inconspicuous though on some level he knows he should slow down, lift his head up, and walk casually instead of rushing straight to the fresher, one hand still gripping Blue by the shoulder.

Once they’ve ducked inside the fresher, he slams the door shut, locks it, and takes a small moment to collect himself. _Deep breaths, Zero,_ he thinks, shutting his eyes in an attempt to block out the panicked noises in his head and the thrum of adrenaline in his veins. When he looks back at Blue, he’s pacing furiously and rambling, to Zero’s surprise – he’d been so focused on keeping it together he hadn’t heard a word of what Blue was saying.

“This is bad, bad, bad,” are the first words Zero can comprehend, Blue’s talking so frantically, “This is all so – _we_ are so screwed, we’re gonna get found out, and returned to the Empire, and they’re going to _kill_ us––”

Zero reaches out and grabs Blue by his shoulders to force him to stand still; the nervous movement travels to his hands, instead, which clench and writhe in front of him. “Try to stay calm,” he says despite his own racing thoughts. The words feel so far away he barely recognizes them as his own, “I’m going to fix this, alright.”

“How do you plan on doing that, huh?” Blue yells, and while the words sound bitter, his voice is so panicked it just comes out sounding like a plea. Zero looks him over, trying desperately to think of a solution, when it hits him. It’s such an obvious plan he’s almost humiliated he didn’t think of it two days ago when they first landed on Crul.

“We just need to not. Look like ourselves,” he says in a deliberate, slow voice. The look Blue gives him could best be described as flabbergasted. “Like – we’ll start with your hair. You always wear it the same way, so how about I just…”

With one hand, Zero reaches out and ruffles his perfectly styled haircut. Blue squawks with indignation and swats him away after a stunned second of silence, but the fear surrounding both of them has dissipated slightly. Zero even manages to snort out a laugh at Blue’s pouty expression. “Okay, good. Now you look less like yourself.”

“You mean I look more like a _mess_ ,” Blue snaps, glowering. Zero can tell from his hunched posture he’s flustered, not angry. “…but okay, what else can we change right now?”

“Uh…” Zero does a quick once-over of the other, taking a half-step back, “Well, we definitely need to get you new clothes at some point, but that can wait. What about – your glasses!” Blue’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise at his sudden exclamation, “Do you need those to see, or…?”

“You’ve – okay, you’ve known me for years, so, you should know this,” Blue says snidely; Zero makes sure to display an eyeroll to let him know this is not the time, “But. Yes, I can. I’m a little far-sighted, but I can, y’know. _Survive_ without them.”

“Alright. Hand them over, then,” Zero says. He feels like he’s standing on solid ground again, at long last. With a huff, Blue takes his glasses off and hands them to Zero, who folds them up and places them in one of his front pockets. Looking at Blue now, with his hair in disarray and nothing on his face, Zero lets out a sigh of relief. “It’s not a perfect disguise, but it’ll definitely help. It’s a start.”

With those reassuring words, Blue’s shoulders sag notably, but only for a second. His brow furrows as he looks over Zero, scrunched up in thought. Before Zero can ask what Blue is thinking, he says, “Your mask.”

“What about-,” he starts to ask, until he realizes the obvious, “…oh. Kriff.”

Neither say anything for a few minutes. Blue shuffles his feet awkwardly, looking as if he thinks he should apologize but isn’t sure how to. Zero considers all of his options – he could try to find a _new_ mask, one unrecognizable from what he’s got now, or he could just take his chances, hope that Blue’s disguise becomes so flawless it doesn’t matter what _he_ looks like (Ganks are known for their mystery, he could find a way to pull it off). For one brief moment, the thought of leaving Blue occurs to him – a red-headed Human and a mercenary Gank might be a giveaway when working together, but separately they’d blend in perfectly.

But when he looks at Blue, one foot tapping anxiously, nose crinkled in concern, he knows he can’t do that. He knows what his one true option here is.

With a deep breath, he lifts his hands to grasp his mask. “Okay. I’m gonna – just,” he hates how nervous this makes him feel, and the wide-eyed look Blue is giving him doesn’t help, “Just don’t be weird about it, okay?”

“Weird about wha–?” Blue starts to say, but then Zero pulls the helmet off of his head.

Blue has seen parts of Zero’s face before – when he was injured, or needed maintenance on specific parts of his cybernetics, or once as a part of a stupid deal they’d made in exchange for Blue _not_ killing a fellow Minister – but he’s never seen him completely without his mask. His mouth hang open, just a little bit, and he blinks in shock for a few seconds before seemingly realizing he’s staring and dropping his gaze to the fresher floor.

“Can you – I _just_ asked you not to be weird!” Zero says, and _wow_ , he forgot how it felt to speak and breathe without a filter. Blue’s cheeks flush and he lifts his head to look Zero face-on again.

“I’m – I’m _not –_ I just,” he stops and stares for another second, before shaking himself out of his shock, “You’re… serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am,” says Zero without hesitating, though he can hear his voice shaking. Whenever he talks, Blue’s eyes flicker down to his mouth, and Zero understands even if it makes him feel queasy for a reason he can’t place, “If I don’t do _this,_ I’m putting you at risk. This will keep you alive.”

Slowly, a smile spreads on Blue’s face – it’s nervous, and uncharacteristically soft for a man as cold as Blue – but it’s sincere, and for a moment, Zero thinks that’s the end of it. As he turns to unlock the fresher door, however, a hand grabs him by the shoulder.

“You, too,” is what Blue says, and Zero looks over at him quizzically. He grows flustered as soon as they lock eyes, which Zero assumes is either due to being misunderstood, having to look at Zero’s face, or a combination of both, “I mean – you – this will keep _you_ alive, too. That’s. It’s another reason we have to do this, okay?”

For a second, Zero still doesn’t quite comprehend, until he realizes that this is Blue’s very stilted way of saying he cares. It brings a smile to his face; when Blue turns bright red he realizes that his smile is now actually _visible_ without him having to put up a display, and his stomach churns with… something like anxiety, but not quite.

“Yeah,” Zero says, and in two swift movements he unlocks the fresher and swings the door open, “Of course, buddy. Now,” he turns around to face Blue fully, taking a backwards step out into the bar. Blue’s posture straightens, falling just short of looking convincingly confident. _It’s a start,_ Zero thinks to himself with a smile; aloud he says, with a flourish of his hands, “Are you ready for your first day as an intergalactic criminal?”

**Author's Note:**

> i entered this fic with no plans and i ended up with feelings and a wasted weekend when i should have been doing schoolwork. worth it !!
> 
> if u cant tell i pulled.....a LOT out of my ass. figuring out what would have put blue at such risk he had to run away from the empire was like.......genuinely harder than i expected but i did my best. and if the characterization is off, apologies for that, also, i've not written for this fandom before and this was like tryna get used to it. also if there's some secret lore about crul out there in the extended universe that contradicts what i made up here, uh, please dont tell me, i'll just be embarrassed.
> 
> i know its got an open-end but thats intentional. maybe i'll write more. probably not!
> 
> for the record i blame everyone on twitter who enabled me.... but u should go enable me some MORE if you want, i'm @burnhounds.
> 
> song title from "when you break" by bear's den


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